Page 39 of Decked, Wrecked and Pucked
I don’t think I’ve ever needed to be closer to him more than I do right now.
He doesn’t say anything at first. He just runs his hands over my shoulders, his thumbs dragging slow circles over the tense muscles before pressing a soft kiss to the back of my neck.
“Who are you running from?” he asks quietly. “Her or yourself?”
“Both,” I admit.
He wraps his arms around me from behind, pulling me into his chest, and I let myself sink into him, resting the back of my head against his shoulder.
“You’d think I’d be over this by now.”
“No, baby. You love too hard for that. You hold on tight to the things that matter, and when something hurts you, you shut it out.”
“It isn’t healthy.”
“So?” he whispers, lips grazing the shell of my ear. “Nobody gets through life without being a little messed up.”
I actually laugh, the sound surprising us both. Jasper grins, then starts peppering light, playful kisses along my neck, chasing the tension away one touch at a time.
His hands don’t stop moving, one gliding over my chest, the other tracing the dip of my waist, not just touching but holding me.
“You think she’s okay?” I ask.
“I think she’s worried about you.”
I hate that he might be right. If that’s true, it means she still cares, and that’s a whole other kind of mess I’m not ready to unpack.
“Maybe it’s time you had a real conversation with her,” he says.
“What’s the point in dragging it back up now? We’re leaving straight after the ceremony.” I catch that brief spark of hope that lights up his eyes before he tries to hide it. “Don’t go there. Get it out of your head because it’s never going to happen, and I don’t want you getting lost in something she’ll probably run from by tomorrow.”
“What if she doesn’t?”
I turn to face him, pressing my hand to his chest, right over his heart. “Don’t let this break, Jasper. I know what she means to you and Zeke.”
He snorts, rolling his eyes. “Stop feeding yourself that crap and be real for once. Or don’t, but don’t lie to me.”
“I just…” I pause, swallowing around the knot in my throat. “I just don’t want you to get hurt, baby. That’s all this is.”
He brushes his thumb over my cheek and tilts his head. “I’ll be fine. Zeke will be fine. You will be fine. And so will she.” He says it like it’s a truth he’s decided on, and the universe has no choice butto fall in line. “It’ll work out the way it’s supposed to.” Before I can say anything else, he steps in closer, his body moving into mine and caging me gently against the sink. “Now,” he murmurs, pressing a slow kiss beneath my jaw, “weren’t you supposed to be getting cleaned up?”
He doesn’t say a word as he guides me into the shower, following close behind until we’re both standing under the spray. He reaches for the shower gel and lathers it between his hands, then starts working it over my chest and arms in smooth, steady circles.
Our bodies move together in the steam and heat. We’re skin to skin, both of us hard but completely untouched because this isn’t about sex. This is intimacy and letting someone love you when you don’t know how to ask for it.
When he’s finished, I return the favor, washing him with the same care he showed me. My hands roam over the hard lines of his chest, back, and shoulders, taking my time with him.
Water drips from his hair, trailing down his cheeks and along the curve of his jaw.
He’s beautiful.
I close the space between us, pressing my body flush against his, pinning him against the shower wall. His skin burns beneath mine, and the second our mouths meet, I forget how to breathe.
I kiss him slowly, my tongue gliding against his, his taste flooding my mouth and pulling me deeper until everything else just falls away.
Right now, there’s only this—the feel of his body against mine, the quiet whimper he makes when I angle my head and deepen the kiss, and the way he kisses me back like I’m the only thing that exists in his world.
“I love you.” He breathes those three words against my lips—words that still undo me, no matter how much time passes.
